4th
and Inches by Tara

tarakerry@hotmail.com

Bailey focused the lens of her camera on the
geared up players who were currently finishing practice by
sprinting the length of the football field. They'd
completed the fifth one and were taking a 25 second rest before
they started their final sprint.

She noted some players were quite winded,
bent over with their hands on their knees. With their helmets on,
the photographer couldn't see the faces, but she could
imagine the grimaces and strain that would show on in them if she
could.

In the middle of the line was number 13, the
player who was keeping the others motivated by giving them a pep
talk of how they'd be ready to decimate their opponent on
Saturday night. The coach blew his whistle and the players took
off down the field once more.

After the sprint was finished, the players
huddled up with the coaches for the final break which would
signify the end of practice. Number 13 once again took charge,
"Okay everyone, on three. One - two -
three." As one voice, the team shouted out, "One
team, one heart, one goal - WIN Amazons!"

With that, the players broke apart and
headed to their respective bags on the sideline to take off their
pads and change out of their cleats for the drive home. Removing
her helmet, Number 13 placed her hair in a ponytail before
donning a baseball cap.

"Hey J.D., come over here a
minute," the man standing next to Bailey called out. The
football player walked over to where the pair stood. "J.D.,
this is Bailey Moore. She's doing a story on the team for
Purple magazine and she'd like to talk with you and maybe
take a couple of photos."

"Purple Magazine. That and The
Onion are the only things I really read. I really like
Laurent's column for unfortunate lesbians."

"Yes, that's one of the most
popular parts of the magazine. So would it be okay if I get some
information from you?"

Before the woman could answer, a loud
beeping started from her waistband. J.D. unclipped a small pager
and checked the number. "Sorry. I'm afraid this
isn't a good time. Maybe you could come by my office
tomorrow?"

"Sure, just give me the address. And a
time"

"1013 Carter Blvd., Suite 116. And you
can choose. Noon or 5:30ish?"

Bailey wrote down the information, "I
have an 11:30 meeting, so let's go with the later
time."

"Okay, see you then." The taller
woman jogged over to the sideline, taking her practice jersey and
pads off as she did so.

The reporter took a few more photos before
she called it a night.

******

Bailey spent part of her night downloading
the images she'd taken at the practice. She browsed through
all the photos, but found herself spending more time on the ones
that featured the beautiful quarterback. There was one photo in
particular that caused a tingle to run up her spine. J.D.
appeared to be looking directly into the camera, and straight
into her soul.

"I think I need to get out more,
Chewie." She informed the gray tabby cat who was currently
trying to get her attention by rubbing against her legs.

"Meow," the feline replied.

"Yes, I know. You're such a
starving beast," Bailey reached over and grabbed the pouch
of snacks from the computer table. Chewie began purring
immediately upon hearing the sound. "Here you go,"
she took several of the chicken flavored treats and dropped them
on the ground. She then turned her attention back to the photos.
It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta
do it.

*****

Bailey checked the directory on the wall for
J.D.'s listing. She found suite 116 and followed it across
to Jillian D. Fisher, M.D. Hmmm. Sexy and smart.She took the
elevator up to the second floor and entered the office.

The first thing the journalist noted were
all the toys and kid sized furniture in the waiting room.
Followed by the pint-sized people who were using those items.
Bailey walked up to the receptionist window.

"Can I help you?" A red haired
woman inquired.

"I have an appointment with Dr.
Fisher."

The woman gave her a quizzical look,
"You do know Dr. Fisher is a pediatrician."

Bailey laughed, "It's not that
kind of appointment. I'm here to interview her about
playing football."

The other woman smiled, "I tell her
she's crazy getting out there with people who want to take
her head off. But she's a stubborn one. She's running
a little behind due to an emergency, but if you'd like to
take a seat, I'll let her know you're
here."

Bailey thanked the woman and sat down in one
of the adult sized chairs. A dark haired child toddled over,
looked up at her and offered her a block. "Thank
you."

The process continued a few more times
before the child's mother came over, "I'm sorry
if she's bothering you."

"No problem, it beats reading an old
magazine. What's her name?"

"Abigail-and I'm
Dana."

Bailey took an orange block,
"Bailey. She's a beautiful little girl. How old is
she?"

"Thanks," she mussed the
child's hair, "She's almost two, but can throw
a temper fit like she's already reached that
mark."

The door to the office area opened and a
woman came out followed by a little boy who ran over and showed
off his newly acquired sticker to Abigail, "Look what I got
Abby, and you can't have it."

The girl began to fuss and the new woman
picked her up, "Andrew, don't tease your sister. Here
you go Abby, Dr. Fisher gave me one for you."

Abigail took the item and squirmed to get
down. When her goal was accomplished she took the sticker over to
show her new friend.

"That's very pretty,"
Bailey told the girl.

"Abigail, can you say goodbye to
Bailey?" Dana asked as she placed the sticker on her
daughter's shirt.

"Bye bye." The youngster waved
her hand.

"Bye Abby, it was nice to meet
you." She watched the family leave the office. Glancing
back to the office door, she saw J.D. standing there with a grin
on her face.

"You want to come back to my
office?" the taller woman asked.

"Lead on Doc."

*****

Bailey checked out J.D.'s office as
the woman finished some end of day duties and told her staff they
could go home. There were diplomas on the walls along with a
large corkboard that was covered with photographs of children,
and in the corner was a basket of miscellaneous toys.

"So what do you want to know?"
the doctor questioned as she took a seat behind her desk.

Bailey took out a pad of paper and a pen.
"How long have you been a pediatrician?"

"About five years. When I was a kid, I
spent some time at the doctor's office, and I think that
helped shape the path I took."

"Working with children you need to be
gentle and kind. Do you ever have a problem finding the intensity
you need to be a successful quarterback?" she prepared her
pen for the answer.

"Not really, I've always been
aggressive when it comes to sports, it just comes naturally to
me. So it's not that difficult for me to switch from J.D.
the doctor, to J.D. the football player."

Bailey finished writing and thought about
her next question, "So what does the D. in J.D. stand
for?"

Jillian smiled, "Have dinner with me,
and maybe I'll tell you."

"Oh, is that right? Well how do you
know I want to have dinner with you?" Bailey countered
smiling.

The reporter's stomach took that
moment to make its voice heard. Jillian laughed, deciding she was
going to milk this for all it was worth, "Seems to
me that eating is going to be a necessity fairly soon from the
sound of that thing. So you might as well dine with
me."

"Well since you put it like that, how
could I resist?"

The pair were seated in a booth by a
red-haired, older woman who obviously had seen Jillian before.
"You have a good dinner and don't stay out too late,
you've got to kick Houston's ass tomorrow."

The player laughed, "Don't
worry, Maggie, we'll take care of them."

"I know you will honey, you always
do" Maggie left the women alone and went back to her
greeting station at the front of the establishment.

"Boy, they are really serious about
this game," Bailey commented as she reviewed the menu.

Jillian laughed, "You're not
from around here, are you? Texas, I mean."

"No. Born and raised in the Big
Apple."

"Well, if you were a Texan, you would
know that football is much more than a game down here, it's
a way of life. When rival high schools play, it's their
reputations at stake and that's very serious. Star
players are bred here like race horses are in
Kentucky."

"Okay, okay, I get it. Texans like
their football. Now for an important question, what's good
here?"

"A better question would be what
isn't."

After dinner, the women walked to their cars
in the parking lot. The conversation had been good during the
meal, and they had hit it off well. They paused in front of
Bailey's 4-Runner for a moment as Bailey tried to think of
something to keep the evening from ending "I forgot to ask.
What does the D stand for in JD?"

"Dangerous," the taller woman
answered without skipping a beat.

"Uh huh," the blonde
wasn't buying it.

"Alright, how about Delicious?
Dynamite? Dandelion?"

Bailey could tell the woman was
egging her on and decided to have some fun too, "I
thought it would be something more along the lines of
Dildo."

The smaller woman jokingly punched the
player in the arm. Jillian grabbed the spot in mock pain,
"Noooo, not my throwing arm. I'll never be able to
complete another pass."

"You are such a ham. Now are
you going to tell me what D really stands for or do I have to use
my version?"

"Okay, you win. Just don't hurt
me anymore," the physician pleaded smiling, "My
middle name is Danielle. You happy?"

"For now." She looked at her
watch, "Almost nine o'clock Dr. Fisher.
Shouldn't you be hitting the sack?"

"How would you like to do some
research on what the star quarterback wears to bed?"
Jillian asked suggestively waggling her eyebrows.

"And be responsible when you're
too tired to get the ball down the field tomorrow night? I
don't think so. But maybe if you win tomorrow we can
explore your wardrobe choices further."

The other woman nodded, "Guess
I'd better have an A game then."

******

The game was a close one with both teams
fighting hard for good field position. Jillian's passes
were on target; unfortunately her receivers seemed to be
suffering from a case of block hands and couldn't seem to
pull any of them in for receptions. But she had gotten her team
to the ten yard line with her scrambling skills and all they
needed to do was get a touchdown to win the game.

Bailey cringed as a defensive end crashed
through her blocker and tackled JD with a bone crushing blow. It
took a moment for the sacked quarterback to get up from the
ground. The reporter could tell the player was hurt, even though
JD tried to cover up a slight limp.

The clock clicked down to thirteen seconds
and the Amazon's coach took a time out. He came out onto
the field along with the team's water girls and walked up
to JD, "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah, I'll live. Let's
just get this ball over the line and end this game."

"That's the plan," the man
agreed. "Now here's what we're going to
do."

The team broke the huddle and lined up. JD
went out in the shotgun and prepared to receive the ball from the
center. A silent count and the ball was hiked back to the
quarterback. Jillian lateralled the ball to her tailback, who was
also the back up quarterback. Number 13 then turned and raced
into the end zone where she turned and caught a perfect pass
thrown by her teammate.

The reporter was glad she remembered to
bring her camera up to capture the winning touchdown and the
aftermath of the team running onto the field to celebrate their
victory. The coaches got their players settled down some to do
the good game line up with the other team. Afterwards, both teams
got into a circle and said a prayer that any injured players
recovered quickly and that the Ravens made it back to Houston
safely.

The Amazons huddled one more time as the
coaches told them how proud they were and sent them off to greet
their fans and family members before showering and changing back
into street clothes. Jillian walked over
to Bailey, her helmet in hand, and a tired smile on her face.

"Did you enjoy the game?"

"It was okay, I thought you would have
scored more points though." The
reporter teased, "I mean you are the great Jillian
Fisher."

"Uh huh, how about I practice my
tackling skills on you?" The taller woman inquired
as she reached her arms out and
threatened to give Bailey a big sweaty hug.

The reporter took a step back and put her
hands up defensively, "I don't think so,
stinky."

"Stinky? I don't stink, I smell
great." Jillian grabbed the smaller woman and pressed her
against the moist jersey.

"Ahh," Bailey cried out as she
tried to wiggle free.

"Take it back," JD ordered.

"Never."

"Suit yourself." The doctor
placed a hand on the reporter's head and began to maneuver
the woman's face closer to her chest. "Take it
back."

"Okay, okay. You don't
stink," Bailey announced and JD released her,
"much," she added once she was freed.

The player just shook her head laughing,
"So did you get enough information to write your
story?"

"Not yet. I still need to find out
what the star quarterback wears to bed," the reporter
grinned evilly.

Jillian raised a lone eyebrow at the
comment. "Well I think that's something I can help
you with, but I think we may want to keep that information off
the record, if you know what I mean."

Bailey chuckled, "Anything you want,
sport. But you need to take a shower first"